


Family dont end in blood

by RJ_Winchester



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Demons Are Assholes, Destiel - Freeform, Hunters, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Multi, Sabriel - Freeform, Sadness, Stiles has magic, Teens in the bunker, friggin Angels, hard knock life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:28:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28109331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RJ_Winchester/pseuds/RJ_Winchester
Summary: Family don't end in blood, and it can stretch across the world. Even from a hidden underground Bunker, to a little town called Beacon Hills. It needs to be protected, guarded. But it is often questioned. People make choices, and have secrets, to keep who they love safe. It never ends well, but it could always end worse.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Jack Kline/Malia Tate
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42
Collections: Destiel, Sterek, Supernatural, Supernatural pairings/friendships, Teen Wolf AUs, Teen wolf fanfic, sabriel





	1. No way in Hell

Darkness coated a crappy motel in a small no name town. The sound of passing cars was all that was heard. Two hunters were sleeping, one in peace and the other in a horrendous dream. A dream filled with flames and screams, a sherrifs badge melting and a crying boy with purple and green staining the iris of the one eye not filled with tears. 

He shot up, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, his brother still asleep beside him. He sent up a silent prayer to someone he knew would be listening, and he threw on his boots, standing and switching on the lights and wiping his face with his hands.

"Dean, come on man, get up." Sam ordered at his brother from the other end of their motel room. After his horrendous dream had forced his eyelids open, and he realised what it was, there was no chance he was going to sit and wait. He needed his brother up, now.

So when the elder of the two merely groaned and buried his head back into his pillow, Sam huffed and threw a pillow at him, hitting him smack in the face. Dean growled in frustration at sat up, reaching for the gun under his pillow before he saw it was only Sam. He groaned again, his eyes finding themselves on the clock next to his bed. "Dude what the hell?!" He exclaimed in a sleepy rough voice, one far more angry than his day voice. Sam supposed what Cas had rold Jack was true, he was an angry sleeper, like a bear. "Its four freakin am Sammy!" 

Sam just rolled his eyes. His brother was NOT a morning person. He was an angry sleeper, like a bear. He chuckled at recalling Cas tell this to Jack in the bunker once. "Oh really? I hadnt noticed." He said sarcastically, throwing another pillow. His brother could be so hard headed sometimes. 

Dean growled, physically growled, and Sam felt himself regretting his decision tk even wake Dean. But he had his reasons, ones Dean would not listen to right now. Perhaps Sam would have to explain later on why he had to do this, and pray that he wouldn't go crazy like last time they had been through the ordeal. At least he wasn't shooting at the walls again, that had happened one too many times. 

A small fluttering was heard and Dean raised his head slightly to find himself looking at his own personal guardian Angel. Thank Chuck, someone who could talk sense into the younger Winchester. He wasn't human, but he did understand Dean's need for sleep, much like other humans. Even Jack was understanding. But Sam, who had been around Dean all his life, didn't have any qualms about waking him.

Hell, if Dean fell asleep when they had a night to themselves, he didn't even dare flutter away for fear of waking him. Castiel felt the empathy rise in him at Dean's exhaustion. He was so tired, and deserved rest, but if Sam's prayer and thought projection had been anything to go by, this was necessary. "Castiel, warrior of God, badass Angel boyfriend of mine, could you please tell Sammy its too early to get up."

Cas merely shook his head as he placed himself near Dean, running his fingers through his hair as the Winchester rested his head on his shoulder. He was glad Jack stayed at the bunker, or he would have waken Dean with a wide grin on his face at having something to do with his hunting and last time that had turned out badly. 

"Its never too early for this Dean. You have a task to complete, preferably as soon as possible. Sam, are you prepared?" The Angel turned his attention to the younger of the brothers and recieved a nod in response. "Dean, my darling, you need to get your ass up." Castiel said, glaring at his charge with an icy stare when Dean pouted.

Dean groaned and sulked like a child as he threw his legs over the side of the bed. He was atleast thankful their werewolf hunt had taken them into the dark hours of the night, only because it meant hed fallen asleep in his clothes rather than showering and now didnt have to change. So he pulled on his boots and leather jacket and stood with his jaw set in aggravation. 'These two chuckleheads better have a damn good reason for this' he thought to himself.

"Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on then? Why are you two nutcases draggin' my ass out of bed after two hours of sleep?" He questioned, throwing the gun from under his pillow into his duffel bag. "I mean come on Sammy. Four hours man, that's all I'm askin' for!" He said gruffly, pulling on jeans and his boots. He was in the middle of an amazing dream, his Angel was dancing on a pole in omly his trench coat and tie and god damn it he was tired. 

"I know, and I'm sorry, but I had a dream Dean. An aboration." Sam said, tapping his foot impatiently while Dean rolled his eyes, raising his hand for Sam to continue. "A boy, Beacon Hills California, he's like me and his power, Dean, something bad is going down." He informed him quickly, anxiety in his tone.

Dean stood and his eyes narrowed sharply. When a child was involved, there was very little Dean wouldn't do to ensure they were safe and out of harms way. If this boy was like Sam? Well Dean just had to get to him before anyone else could. Sam hadn't had an aboration in years, and if Sam knew, maybe the Demons did or worse, the friggin Angels. 

"Alright. Beacon Hills, roughly what, seventeen hour drive?" Dean asked as he ran into the bathroom and slammed the door.

"Yeah, so we need to leave ASAP." Sam shouted as he flung open their motel room door and loaded the duffel bags into the car. Dean joined him moments later, Castiel was waiting by the car. "I only needed to wake you so that you knew what was happening and so you could get in the car. Do you wanna sleep some more?" Sam asked him.

Dean breathed heavily. Sam woke him up, just so he could get into the car? Why hadn't Cas just used his Angel mojo? Then Dean wouldn't have had to wake up at all! He could've gotten more than his four hours instead of a mere two and a half.

"Dean, I know your'e mad. But three reasons to wake you up. One, an explanation. Two, bathroom so we dont have to stop as much, and three, I knew you would want to know if this started again." Sam said carefully, raising his hands in a defensive manner. He knew better than anybody there were five things no one messed with when it came to Dean Winchester. One being family, particularly Sam, two being the Impala, three being sleep, four being food, and five being children. This situation had just messed with three of those.

He guessed that the only reasons Dean was so calm, because yes, a growling Dean with bags under his eyes and his hands in fists after two hours was sleep was very calm for him, was because it involved a child and himself. So when Dean nodded and climbed into the backseat without a fuss, Sam sighed in relief. He climbed into the front and waited for Castiel to join him.

Castiel smiled a little, like the time he had first eaten a burger. He never got to sit in the front seat. Not unless Sam wasn't with Dean. If the two were seperated for one reason or another, Castiel rather enjoyed sitting in the front with Dean. It made him feel more important, and like he was part of the group. While he often found cars slow and confining, sometimes he enjoyed the change of pace. So he sat in the front and smiles when neither brother protested or asked why he didn't simply fly ahead of them.

Sam jumped into the front seat and as he placed the keys into the ignition the slow rumble of Baby's engine was heard. Dean smiled softly as he sprawled out in the back seat, laying on his stomach with one of his rare hoodies under his head like a pillow. "Cas, watch Sammy. Wake me up when he gets tired m'kay Angel?" He said with an exhausted smile to his boy friend. 

"Sammy, you get one scratch on her and I'll send you on a one way trip to visit Crowley." He said lazily as the movement of the car and the quiet beat of Carry On My Wayward Son playing through the radio lulled him into sleep.

Castiel did as Dean requested of course. He kept an eye on Sam, and the boy seemed anxious and worried. It must have been because of the child that was involved. He did his best to comfort him, but Castiel wasn't overly good at interacting with Sam the way he could Dean. He assumed it had something to do with the profound bond he and Dean shared, but he didn't mention it. 

"I am certain the child will be okay Sam. From what I know, the Angels have no idea about what is going on. I doubt the Demons do either, or Crowley would have sent word." 

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I guess your'e right Cas. I'm just worried. This kid, well he was at the very oldest 17. He's only a teenager Cas. He seemed so familiar but I just, I don't know him!" Sam said, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel. The feeling of recognition in his chest was bugging him, who was this kid? Why was he important? Why in the name of Chuck did he have an aboration about him?

"You and Dean will figure it out Sam. You always do." Castiel said, truly hoping it would be enough to calm the younger Winchester. Again, Sam was nodding at him, though this time he took a calming deep breath and a comfortable silence fell over the pair.

They stopped once, at nine for gas and breakfast. Sam had faint purple bags under his eyes now, and Castiel woke Dean as carefuly as he could so he wouldn't have a weapon pulled on him. Surprisingly, Dean was in a much better mood than usual. It must have been because of the seven hour sleep instead of four. Caatiel thought that maybe he should sleep a lot more, but again kept his mouth shut, not wanting to start an argument with his boy friend. 

Sam didn't eat breakfast, opting to do some research on the town while Dean ate. When they piled back into the car a half hour later, he could see his little brother fighting off sleep, head swaying and eyelids drooping as they drove around. When it hit elevn thirty, Dean actually had to tell Cas to use his Angel mojo to put Sam to sleep. 

Dean drove them the rest of the way to Beacon Hills, finding them a motel quickly and waking Sam. He had no clue as to the details of Sam's premonition and they were always vague, it could happen now or it could happen in a few days. A motel was the best idea, especially if they were about to have a kid on their hands. 

"Any clue what this kid looks like? That could help us find him." Dean asked as he sat at the table with a beer in his hands. They had been trying to figure out how to approach the situation for a while now, knowing that turning up and spouting some fake bullcrap didn't always work. 

"That should work." Sam said. "Cas, you should do your whole mind reading thingy. It'll be a lot easier seeing as I can't really remember and any minor description wont help but narrow it down." Castiel nodded, pressing two fingers to Sam's forehead and closing his eyes momentarily. When he opened them again, Sam took a seat shakily. Angel mojo, it always bites you back.

"I have his face, I'll search the town." The Angel was gone from the room with a small 'whoosh' leaving the brothers alone in a silent room. He was back again in seconds, a boy in his arms covered in soot, passed out in Castiel's arms. 

"What the hell?" Dean asked, standing fast and nearly knocking over his chair in the process of running towards his Angel boyfriend and the teenager in his arms. He helped Castiel gently lay him on the bed. "What happened?" He asked in confusion.

"I found him, his home Dean, it was on fire." Castiel said quietly, looking back at the boy sadly. "I read his thoughts. His Mother has been dead since he was eight. But his Father...he died in the house. The boy was wrapped around him, screaming." Castiel removed something from inside his trench coat, three leatherbound books tied together in a string and a small stack of papers. "He was holding them." 

Dean took the books and pages from him, skimming his eyes over the papers that were in fact photos as he handed the books to his nerdy baby brother to handle. Photos of a boy, a woman and a man, stood infront of a familiar blue jeep. Photos of two little boys and the same man, dressed in a sherrif uniform. One last image, of the teenage boy on the bed, with another boy with a goofy smile and crooked jaw, a red headed girl, a girl with raven hair, and a man with a scruffy beard and a sour face. 

"Dean." Sam's voice caught his attention, and he turned around to see what he needed. He was holding open two of the books to pages that Dean recognised. They were filled with sigils, notes on creatures. These books were in the Men Of Letters Library, as well as in the shelves of research at Bobby's house. The third book, was a diary. One near identical to their Fathers, same pages, same notes. But held in its pages was a name Dean hadn't heard since the year Sam was soulless. 

"Cambell?" Dean asked, barely above a whisper. "Like...like Mom?" 

Sam nodded. "Remember some random uncle paid for her grave? We never met him? Well, that random uncle had a sister. Who married a sherrif, and got out of the life." He said, eyes turning to stare at the boy on the bed. "They had a son."

"Dad told us this once. When you asked him too much about Mom and her family." Dean said, flipping through the diary. "The aunt, she asked for help, Dad left us at a motel. Sammy, this cant be...holy crap I thought he was dead. Dad said they were gone, that we'd never see them again. But if that book is right, that means this kid..." Dean trailed off and shook his head. 

"It's the same kid from my dream Dean." Sam confirmed, looking at the boys thick brown fluffy hair, a light dusting of freckles and moles across his pale face, the bruises under his eyes and the sleeping face he'd seen filled with tears and pain not even nineteen hours ago.

"No freaking way is this him. It can't be." Dean went over to the boy, who had curled himself around a pillow in his slumber. Dean just hoped he would recognise him, the boy had only been seven when they had met, that was over ten years ago now. He shook his shoulder gently, remembering how easy it was to wake him up as a kid. "Mieczyslaw?"


	2. Fire

"You killed me!" She screamed, throwing punches at him

"You are going to get him hurt!" The other yelled, scratching her claws into his chest. 

He cried out, it was hurting, but it was true. He knew something was wrong with him. He was useless, damaging, a danger. He lied and kept secrets, he had to. It kept them safe. But these women were telling him otherwise, and he couldn't even tell them they were wrong.

"Never trust a fox" a whisper made its way into his ears and he screamed again. He could take anything but that creature inside him. Why wasn't his magic working? Why did the sigil tattooed onto his chest not work? He begged to every entity he could to keep him from becoming that monster once more.

He shot up, drenched in his sweat and heart racing. After the brain frazzling dream about his Mother and Derek's Mother screaming he had killed them both, Stiles Stilinski awoke with a jump and gasp for breath as if he had been drowning with two thoughts at the front of his mind. One thought was that something was bound to go badly in his day. The second, there was something keeping him in his bed. This of course set off several alarms om his head, far more than the dream of his Mother. For Stiles, actually sleeping in his bed was not a normal thing to do. The floor, yes, his chair, yes, the couch, even better. But never did he sleep in his bed. 

So he turned his head, because for some reason he couldn't turn his body, and found out why. Derek "Sour Wolf" Hale, his boyfriend, had his arms wrapped around his waist, pinning him to the bed. Thankfuly they were both wearing clothes, because just as Stiles was about to wake his Wolf so he could get out of bed and get ready foe school, his Father opened the door and Stiles squealed (yes, he squealed), falling onto his cold bedroom floor.

"Um...hi Dad." Stiles said with a hopeful smile. 

"Yeah, I'm not even gonna ask." John said, shaking his head and holding up a hand in defeat. Stiles was seventeen, the pair of them were both still clothed, and neither of them could get pregnant, so he really had no place to say anything as long as Stikes was happy and Derek wasn't hurting him or treating him wrong. "Just letting you know no school today, there was a fire and they wanna check everything out. So I'm off to work. You two have fun." He left the room, closing the door behind him.

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief and shook his head. "I know you're up now Derek. Come on, before i drag your little Werewolf ass onto this cold ass floor" he saud standing, reaching for Derek's shirt. 

Derek chuckled a little and rolled over, leaning his elbow on the bed to prop himself up. "I think your Dad is finally warming up to me." 

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yeah, he's definately happy that his teenage boy has a Werewolf sleeping in his bed most nights of the week." He chuckled at the random thought of a puppy version of Derek waking him up.

"Well as much as I want to stay with you today" Derek stood and stretched out his arms, Stiles would never deny staring, and pulled on a shirt. "I have to help Scott out with Liam." 

Stiles huffed. Liam, the newest puppy in their pack, was difficult to deal with. He was as stubborn as Scott, with the anger Derek held when they first met him, and the control of a teaspoon. So yes, Stiles maybe wanted all day with the Wolf, but teacging the newbie some control would be a whole lot safer.   
If there was one thing Stiles knew, untrained puppy's caused damage. The kid needed some help, and while Stiles wanted to spend all day in bed with his boyfriend he knew it was important. Besides, he had work to do, and he needed Derek gone.

"It's okay Der, I need to work on my magic anyways." Stiles said, pointing towards the books stacked up on his desk. Nobody knew what was inside these books, and Stiles kept it that way. Nobody was allowed around him when he opened them, for good reason.

So Derek just nodded and finished getting dressed, kissing his boyfriend and leaving. Stiles would tell him what the books were when he needed to. But for now, Derek hoped he was okay. He had been through so much with the Nogitsune, it rattled him. Derek tried to help him, but he was a Wolf, he didn't have the same magic as Stiles. Nobody did. So he ran off to the school to meet Liam and Scott. 

When Stiles was certain Derek was far away, he closed his curtains and switched off his lights. A glow in the dark devils trap lit up underneath his bed, and with a wave of his hand as his magic tingled through his fingertips, the enormous one on his ceiling became visible again. 

He nodded, knowing his warding was in place. He then pulled down his shirt, eyes searching for the tattoo on his arm. The antiposession charm was still in place. Another nod of his head, and he turned to check his window sill. He had used his magic to merge the salt into the wood of the sill, into his walls, and his door frame.

He finally turned to his books, the diary in particular. It had been his Mothers diary. This was the one thing he had kept secret. Only his Father and the Argent family are aware, and it is only very mild awarness for the Artgents. His Mother, Claudia Gajos, was a Hunter. The Gajos name was well known, considering it was related to the Winchester name.

As a child, he hadn't understood. But as he grew older and found her books, he had begun to realise why everything seemed so off. There were salt rounds in the attic, old guns and necklaces. Books of all kinds filled to the brim with stories about monsters. Ones that now of course, he could prove were real, though slightly inaccurate.

Over time he had been adding to his Mothers journal, pieces of information that he had gathered from his time in Beacon Hills. Ever since his magic had mannifested into his Spark as Deaton called it, he now had to master it to keep it secret. Hunters took down the monsters in the world, the Demons and the Werewolves and Vampires. If Stiles became one of those monsters, he was screwed. As if the Nogitsune hadn't been enough. 

He shook his head, eager to erase the thoughts before he started down a dark road. He turned to on of his books, this particular page about Demons. Apparantly, as a child, she had heard a story of her cousin having made a deal with a yellow eyed Demon. Stiles knew plenty about lore and mythology, able to place the name Azazel. He wondered, why anybody would make a deal with a Demon. 

But then he read on, finding she had made the deal to save someone she loved. Others had done so, with crossraod Demons. He didn't know it could bring someone back from the dead. An idea sparked in his head, a dangerous one. But he didn't care. 

He gathered everything he would need to summon a Demon. He even used his magic to give a little extra boost, a Demon dressed in a black suitappeared once the incantation was complete. He had a bored look on his face as sighed as he spoke. "Come on now, I don't have much time for this, I'm rather busy as the King of Hell." 

Stiles recoiled a little. King of Hell? Had he summoned Lucifer? Oh crap he totally messed up and summoned Lucifer. He felt his chest starting to speed up and his eyes go purple and he raised his hands, not knowing what his Spark would do but hoping it would work on the Devil.

The man chuckled at him, and Stiles lowered his hands a little. "Easy there Spark Plug. My name is Crowley. Lucifer, the little Devil, is safely locked up in the cage of Hell." 

Stiles faltered. "Okay, plus is no Lucifer. Con, I was looking for Azazel." He sighed and fell to his chair. His Mother was related to the best Hunting family in America, and he couldn't even summon the right Demon.

"Oh, well yellow eyes is actually dead. As in, very dead." Crowley voiced, leaning on the wall. "That's why I'm here. Took over." 

Stiles' head shot up quickly and he nearly (he totally did) fell off his chair in his eratic movements. "Can you bring my Mom back?" He asked, not even hesitating.   
Crowley however, did hesitate. His time with the Winchester's had taught him plenty, like how only fools made deals. This was a teenager, a bloody child, and he missed his Mother. Crowley couldn't give him that, not knowing how badly it would go.

"I'm afraid not Spark Plug. Not really in the business of making deals so much any more." He said with ease. There was no easy way to tell a child they were never going to see their Mother again. 

Stiles stilled, clenching his fists in anger. "Why not? Demons make deals right? I want to deal. I want my Mother back." 

Crowley shook his head, not overly aware of the spark of fire in the palm of the boys hand. "Kid, trust me, this isn't something that you want to do. Okay? It ends badly for everyone. Don't try it. I won't deal and I'll make sure every other Demon knows the same." He would not let this child sell his soul. What's dead, should stay dead.

Stiles felt nothing but rage and hurt, and his hand sparked, a fire blazing from his palm and aimed at Crowley, instead hitting the wall as the Demon dissapeared. He screamed out in hurt, the flames engulfing his room and spreading, his eyes a deep purple as hints of green invaded his magic. He didn't realise what was going on as tears streamed down his face until he heard his Father screaming out his name.

He saw the flames attacking his walls brutally and panicked. Had he caused this? What had he done. He grabbed some photos he knew he couldn't do without and the books on his desk, leaping over the fire and running downstairs. "Dad!" He yelled as he searched around for his Father.

His Father was laying on the floor of the living room. He ran to him, pilong himself around the man and shaking his shoulders. "Dad! Dad wake up! We need to get out of here! Dad!" Stiles screamed, and begged his Father to get up. When he didn't, Stiles cried and curled around him. His Mother had been right. He killed her, and now he killed his Dad too. Perhaps if he just gave in and stayed here, nobody would know it was all his fault. The Nogitsune was right. He was a killer. 

As his eyes drifted clothes after what felt like hours of crying, he could have sworn he heard something. A flutter of feathers. Maybe the Angels had finslly come for him after his attempts to join them so many times in the past few years. 

His final thought before he dropped into pure unconsciousness was that he would see his Mother and Father soon.

That was of course, until Stiles heard his name. His real name. The name he had yet to hear pass someones lips since he was seven. He shot up immediately, thinking he might find himself in a hospital room as the memory of the fire flew to the fore front of his mind. 

He remembered grabbing the spell books his mother gave to him, her hunting journal, and some photos he would die without. He remembered a noise, feathers fluttering. Now he was here, in the motel room on the edge of the town. 

He grabbed the knife in his boot and shot up, holding it out. "Who in the Hell are you?"


	3. Family

Dean was shocked into silence. His kid cousin (he was gonna stick with cousin considering how messed up their family tree was) was holding a knife infront of him, his eyes full of exhaustion, fear, hurt. He didn't recognise Dean, and sure enough it had been well over a lifetime since he had seen him. He was only a baby at the time, a toddler at best. Still, there was no way he had somehow learned to use knives. His Mother hadn't wanted him to be in the life of a Hunter. Hell, she had offered to take in Dean and Sam at the time, but Dean was still a good little soldier and Sam left for Stanford just a few short months afterward.

John had no doubt given him self defense classes, and from what he could recall about being in this place all those years ago, the kid probably came across some pretty scary things. But he didn't look much like the type to keep knives on his person. Right now, he was just a scared kid who needed his Father, Dean didn't even know if the boy was aware of his Father's demise. 

"Kid, you need to calm down." Dean said, using the voice he sometimes used for Jack when he got worked up. He held his hands out infront of him, making it as clear as possible nothing was going to happen. "Put the knife down." 

The teen shook his head with an empty chuckle. "I'm not stupid. I don't know who you are, how I got here, or how in the hell you know my name, so no, I don't think the knife is going down until I get answers." He held the knife higher. 

He didn't know who these people were. The tallest in the room with long hair seemed to be wary, as he damn well should be. The shorter one with a necklace resting on his shirt was trying (and failing) to calm him, the third was the one concerning him. He was dressed in a trench coat, his hair jet black and his ocean blue eyes baring into his skull with his head tilted like a lost puppy, but Stiles could feel his magic reaching out to him, aching to wrap round his soul. 

It terrified him. The last time his magic had been so alive around another was after the Nogitsune, when Deaton explained his Spark was getting stronger thanks to the possession of the fox spirit. Whoever the man was, he clearly had something to do with the Supernatural world. That didn't sway him, no matter how at ease his magic was. 

"I know your name because Your Mother told me." The shorter man said, eyes only presenting re-assurance and love. "Claudia Gajos offered to take me and my brother in when our Father, your Mother's cousin in law or something crazy, came here to help with a hunt." 

He dropped the knife to the floor and his eyes widened. "Your'e the Winchester brothers. Aren't you?" He asked quietly. 

"I'm Sam." the taller said, before pointing to the shorter. "This is my brother Dean. Over there" he gestured to the third man "is our friend Castiel." 

Stiles fell back onto the bed and ran his fingers through his thick hair in exhaustion. So now he had to worry about Hunters in town, that happened to be his family, and his Father was gone. He was confused. He was a killer. Tears started to try and leave his eyes, but he rubbed them harshly, refusing to let them fall. He couldn't cry infront of the Winchester's. He wouldn't let himself be that weak.

"Meiczyslaw, how did you know we were Hunters?" Sam asked, seating himself infront of the bed. "We know your Mom didn't want that life for you. She didn't even want us in it and we were adults, strangers." 

"It's Stiles, actually. Has been Stiles since she died." He said, staring at the floor coldly. He tried not to be angry at himself, or at Crowley. "The book on the deks, same as my Mom's. It's a Hunters journal. The Hunter family in town have one that they call a Bestiary." He explained. "They knew my Mother, and I've known about the worlds darkness since she died. So I maybe helped them out with a few things here and there." He of course neglected to mention the fact his best friends were all Werewolves, a Banshee, a Kanima and a Werecoyote.

"Let me guess." Sam said, sighing a little. "Argent?" 

Stiles was taken back. "Yeah how did you know?" 

Dean groaned. "God damn it. Did it have to be Argent?" He sat down and pouted like a child. 

Sam turned to Stiles to explain. "There are typically three types of Hunter in the world. Ones that have been taking down the monsters through generations, which is harder when you lose your family. Then you have Hunters like us." He gestured to the other two. "We were raised into it but could never get out, something was always going bump in the night and ruining our lives. Then, you have the ones that want revenge. They usually don't last as long in our world."   
Dean nodded and took a sip from a ber can he'd pulled from the fridge before sighing. "The Argent family, are behind door number one. These guys are pros, raising their kids into it without ACTUALLY raising them into it." 

An image of Allison shot through his brain, she hadn't known about any of this and once she found out she had taken up far more bows and arrows that expected. He pushed away the thought. "Look I don't know what you guys are doing here, what you have to do with the Argent's or still how I got here, but can I go home now?" He asked, feeling like a small child asking to be taken to his Daddy.

Cstiel stepped in. "Stiles, you can't. Your home...it was in flames when I retrieved you." He explained. "It isn't safe there." 

The memories hit him like a freight train. Crowley had told him he wouldn't deal, and worse that he would keep every Demon from doing the same. He had been angry. The fire, he caused it. His Father...

"Holy crap." Stiles whispered as a sob wracked his body. He killed his Father. He started that fire and now he was dead. 

Dean stepped in before Sam could, wrapping his arms around the small frame of his cousin to keep him from thrashing and hurting himself. He had to do this for Sam on more than one occasion, as a kid and as an adult. He was used to it. "It's okay kid, I got you." 

Stiles felt like he had stayed like that for hours in Dean's arms when he finally stopped crying. He needed to see Deaton about his magic, tell Chris about the Hunters in town so that he could keep the pack safe, see Melissa about his Father. These people were family, and there was a high likelihood he would have to stay with them seeing as he was still under age. But they were Hunters, and most Hunters didn't typically take on strays. 

"I need to talk to some people. My Dad didn't have any family for me to go to but I have a friend who's Mom basically took over for mine when she died." He said solemnly. He wanted, needed, to mourn. But this had to be taken care of. 

"Alright. If you need to get things done, may as well. But uh, we are family? Shouldn't we be the ones to take you in?" Sam asked. He was sure that was how it worked. 

"I didn't think Hunters took in strays." He asked.

"You would be surprised at how different these two are from most typical Hunters." Castiel spoke up again, smiling at Dean awkwardly before shifting. "We already have a teenager in our care, my adoptive son Jack. My vessels daughter Claire often visits us as well. Provided your friends are part of our world, we would of course permit you to see them, though it is quite far from here to home, I would have to pick them up or drop you off." He seemed to be talking aloud to no one in particular so Stiles took the opportunity to process the information.

"Vessel? Dude are you a Demon or something?" He reached again for the knife but Dean shook his head.

"Cas is an Angel. The body, Jimmy Novak's, is empty. He died, that's why Cas has the body. He's like an Archangel, can't use a meat suit without permission first." Dean explained. "He's okay, Stiles. He's been hanging round with us since before we stopped the first apocalypse.

"Also, please refrain from calling me Dude." Castiel added with a face that suggested he wasn't fond of the nickname. Derek was the same way, and the thought of his sour wolf eased his magic a little.

At the same time, Stiles wanted to freak out and ask every question at once. His magic was buzzing under his skin again, now he knew why of course. Sam chuckled at the excitement dawning on his face. Stiles knew Demons were real, had all the charms to prove it and an experience with Crowley. He knew that for some reason, the monsters of Beacon Hills were different to the rest of the world. He also knew that might not stop a Hunter from killing them all, and that was a problem.

"If I have to leave, can i still see some people? Before I go? I mean it's not like i have anything to pack." He chuckled humourlessly.

"I get that. Come on, I'll drive ya. Cas, stay here with Sammy." He said, grabbing his keys and opening the door for Stiles. Before he closed it though, he turned to his brother and boyfriend. "If the Argent family has been parked here for a while, they are either out the game, or waiting for something. Dig around, see what you can find." 

Stiles was just stood their, waiting for Dean. "So which one is yours?" He asked, gesturing to tall the different cars. 

Dean smiles and spun the keys round his finger, walking towards his 1967 Impala woth a smile. He watched the teens jaw drop. "Oh yeah. This Baby is all mine." He climbed into the front seat and watched as Stiles all but leapt into the front seat. This kid was definately related to him. 

It was only a short drive to the first of their few destinations, Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital.


	4. A teenage life sucks

"Holy crap" Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes with his palms. "How in the hell did we miss this place?" He had been going through some files and books Castiel flew over from the Bunker, along with every website he could. Beacon Hills was a magnet for bad omens, from power cuts to burning buildings, immense storms to dead bodies popping up in bad ways all over the place. Mysterious creatures seemed to be different in this place though, and Sam guessed it had something to do with the Telluric Currents that were running under the town. 

"It is rather odd that neither Bobby nor your Father seem to have any information on this town, though the Men Of Letters may have not yet discovered this place." Castiel added, curious as to why no one seemed aware of the strange goings on in this town. Though the confused puppy look on his face was also due to Stiles. 

He had yet to mention it to the Winchester's, but he could feel something buzzing under the boys skin. Magic, though Sam had asumed the boy was like him, demon blood in his veins, bit Castiel did not feel the same power emenating from the teen as he had done Sam. This boys magic was gentle yet fierce, and felt as though it was trying to wrap itself around his grace for comfort. 

It felt nothing like Jack's Nephilim magic either, but it was definately something strong. Something rare and potentially dangerous. But he just couldn't place it.  
"Everything I could find here? It all leads up to supposed animal attacks, but all the info? At one point or another leads to Werewolves, atleast one Kitsune, and even a Kanima along with, well, God knows what else! All the supernatural here is almost exactly how it is in crappy movies or oldschool folklore." Sam muttered to himself. It was nothing short of fascinating and his mind was reeling. 

Before he could further express his awe at their blindness to this town, the door opened and in sauntered Dean and Stiles. Dean looked exhausted, mentally and physically, but Stiles looked near the end of his tether, seemingly ablaze with his anger rather than the sad mourning boy that left the motel mere hours ago. 

"What happened?" 

"Nothing. Just Dean being an asshat about me saying goodbye to my friends." Stiles stormed right past them and locked himself in the bathroom, the sound of the shower probably meant to block out the other inhabitants of the motel room. 

Sam pulled Bitchface #34 and sighed. "Okay, Dean, what did you do to his friends?" He had seen how Dean often reacted, either with a flirtatious smirk plastered on his face or a gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans that he brought up when he wad feeling protective.

"I told Stiles he couldn't tell his friends where he was going when he left here. Am I the only one takin' damn precautions here?" Dean growled, dropping back onto his bed. For once, Sam had to agree with Dean. For now at least, they couldn't know the exact place Stiles would be. The general area of Lebanon was a loose term, and perfectly acceptable considering what they did for a living. 

"Dean, you did the right thing. But let's accept this, not only is he a teenager, but he's a teenager who has only ever lived here, with these people, and he has to uproot his life for the first time. He isn't going to take it well when he can't tell his friends where he is going." Sam, always the voice of reason, explained to his brother. 

"We never had this problem." Dean pouted and let his head drop to the pillows. 

"We never had friends either." Sam argued. Truthfully he had a handful of friends scattered around that he hadn't seen since he moved out of whatever town he had befriended them in. After he left for that road trip with Dean he lost most of them. Hunters weren't even typically friends with other Hunters, it just wasn't done, especially with how often they were betrayed, and how many people died.

"I'm just trying to keep the kid, and us, safe. If anyone else here knew about us they could have been watching him. Hell, they could be after Stiles they could be after us, they could even be after Jack. I'm not letting anyone in this family get hurt just because he misses his friends." Dean growled out protectively.

"Well you had every right to be protective Dean, Sam and I have discovered that this place is an attraction to creatures of the Supernatural. Only, they aren't what you are used to." Castiel informed him, walking over to hug his boyfriend. "These creatures are different Dean, they don't function the way you are used to. I feel like this may be a place we need to keep a close eye on." He ran his fingers through Dean's hair gently.

"Dean, Stiles just lost his Dad, he's about to lose his friends. We need to be understanding here." Sam repeated himself. When they lost their Dad, Sam had let himself mourn and feel, and Dean beat the crap out of the Impala.

Dean just nodded and sighed. Now they had two teens to take care of, a whole new level of supernatural, and Dean was nothing short of frustrated. He had wanted to finish that crappy case and go back to the Bunker. He was going to make breakfast for Jack the next day, and he had planned to take his little family to the beach. He had even called Charlie and Kevin to join them, Jack loved being around them.

Dean could remember taking care of Sam as a teenager. The boy was addicted to books, he didn't desire space, just being way from their Father and being with Dean. He was also filled with angst and hated the fact they were always moving around and never staying in one place. He would storm around screaming at their Father and it dawned of Dean the same thing was happening now with Stiles.

He sighed heavily. "Fine. He can tell them Lebanon, not our exact position. They have to visit at the least three times before they can see the bunker AND we have to test them for everything we know. Is that fair?" He asked Sam, not waiting for an answer before dropping face first onto the pillow. He held up a hand towards Castiel and curled two fingers toward his palm. "Yo, Angel Ass, cuddles, now." He demanded through the material of the pillow, too done with the days events to care about lifting his head.

Castiel rolled his eyes fondly but never the less, laid down next to Dean and wrapped him in a hug, Dean curling into him and sighing happily before throwing Sam the middle finger. "I can hear you grinning. Call your own Angel boyfriend this one's taken."

Sam nodded deep in through. He probbly should call Gabriel, and check in on Jack. Chuck knows what the two got up to in the Bunker when Sam asked Gabe to babysit. First, he needed to handle Stiles. He knocked on the bathroom door and recieved no response.

"Stiles, kiddo, come on out. Dean and Cas are about to head to sleep and I'm gonna book another room for you and Me so they have some privacy and we have some sanity." A quiet 'get fucked' was heard from Dean and Sam chuckled.

Stiles came out, jaw set and eyes dark. He said nothing as he grabbed his Mothers books and his photos and left the room. Sam sighed and looked to his brother. He knew Dean meant well, and he knew teenagers weren't the easiest people, but Stiles lost his entire life in one day. Sam could be patient, Cas had more patience than anyone. Would Dean? He would wait and see.

He told Stiles to take some time to himself, come back in an hour. He could do whatever he wanted to if he was back in an hour, or he would send Castiel to get him. The boy stormed off once more, again leaving silently, and Sam booked a second room. While there he of course, called Gabriel.

"Hey Sammich, what's up?" Gabriel answered, Sam could faintly hear Jack chuckling in the background and Sam couldn't help but chuckle himself at his boyfriends antics. "Where are you guys? I thought you would be back here by tonight? Late, but tonight."

Sam rubbed a hand over his face in exhaustion. "I know Gabe, I'm sorry. But something...something happened." 

"Are you okay? Are Castiel and Dean okay? Where are you guys I can come pick you up!" Gabriel said through the phone, panic lacing his voice.

"Gabe! Gabe calm down, everyone is fine. We just...well, we have a kid with us. I had a premonition, kid was in danger, we got him but his Dad died and it turns out, he's actually our cousin. We are his only family left and he knows about the life. Easier to have him with us than have a Hunter in the system."

"Oh, another Wayward kid? That's not too bad. I expected worse." His boyfriend said honestly. "Are you guys gonna be gone for much longer then? Jack really misses you guys."

Sam sighed again. "I'm not sure. Could be back tomorrow, could be back in a few days. The kids house was completely destroyed so I think we need to pick some things up for him, and I doubt he plans on leaving quietly with us."

"Sam, you know he won't, but if the kid doesn't want to be in the system this is what he has to do. Get Cassie to knock him out or something." Gabriel advised.   
Sam really didn't want to, but it was better than nothing. 

"Alright Gabe, your'e right. I know we need to be careful with the situation but something about this kid isn't right. Tell Jack night from us, I'll check in tomorrow."

"Night Sammich." Gabe said, and Sam heard Jack call out goodnight before the phone call ended. 

Sam sighed and looked at the door then his watch. Stiles had only been out of his sight for ten minutes but it still seemed like too long. He could be anywhere in the town he knew better than anything, talking to anyone. While Sam knew he needed his friends right now, and couldn't blame him, it was still a dangerous thought. He needed to keep his family safe, would keeping Stiles with them affect that?


End file.
